


Untitled HDM Crossover #2

by Red



Series: ACD by HDM [2]
Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Daemon, Daemons, Disguise, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-11
Updated: 2007-05-11
Packaged: 2017-11-12 03:17:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red/pseuds/Red
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the hdm_221b community on LJ. Sherlock and his kestrel daemon try out a new disguise, and Watson and his mongoose have a bit of a laugh. About as silly as it sounds, really just an excuse at the time to write more HDM crossover nonsense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled HDM Crossover #2

I have long believed that the greatest enemy Sherlock Holmes ever should face was not any murder he helped capture, not any poisoner he proved guilty, nor even a man at all--rather, it was the seemingly inescapable treat of boredom. 

It was a muggy week in August that brought the stream of callers once more to a stand-still; as ever, the heat proved too much entirely for any would-be criminal, and no man nor daemon could escape the feeling of torpor that hung heavily over the city. Suleviae had responded in her typical fashion of turning first churlish at every one and thing, then becoming quite like an additional piece of furniture in her immobility. Even Aristaios, normally seeming so aloof from the mundane world, was a most listless companion to Holmes' increasingly restless manner. 

Over those intolerable afternoons I could do little more than hope that Holmes did not seek solace in his vile cocaine, for it was far too sweltering to distract him with any of my usual means. In truth, try as I might, I was swiftly proving a poor companion indeed, and the fact that Sul had snapped at Aristaios more than I had at Holmes was of little consolation. 

It was under these conditions when one morning I was quite surprised to discover that Holmes was absent from our rooms. Upon asking Suleviae about the matter, she claimed that Aristaios had said nothing to her, either. Further, I was unsurprised to find Mrs. Hudson did not have any information as to Holmes' whereabouts--indeed, I thought I detected some amusement in her daemon Geren's manner at the very question, but in this I could not be certain. Sul and I were left, then, to ponder as to where our roommates had gone, and what purpose could drive them out in such weather. 

Personally, I was inclined to think it to have been our manners. However, I was hesitant to voice such to Suleviae, lest she feel inclined to turn her ill humour on me. 

The day wore on as that week had--slowly. Sul and I had little to occupy ourselves with other than wondering if Holmes was on a case, and whether we were to be involved in it; and she grew increasingly restive to think that Aristaios may be enjoying the thrill of some case without her. 

Though I was hopeful that Holmes had found some profitable endeavour with which to occupy himself, both Suleviae and I were most pleased when, later that afternoon, Mrs. Hudson announced that a caller had arrived for Holmes. Whatever he may have been working on without our assistance, we were most determined to be present at the beginning of this next inquiry, and I eagerly asked Mrs. Hudson to see the gentleman up.

Our hopes of an engaging problem with which to assist Holmes were swiftly thwarted with this elderly individual. If the stoop-backed old man had a case, he certainly was going about a most circuitous manner of describing it. In fact, he did not even introduce himself before he set upon his convoluted tale which seemed to be crafted exactly to escape any note-taking I attempted. At one moment he would begin to tell of a lost watch, when the story would turn to how he found it once more; he would describe his missing wife, and quite suddenly the conversation would turn to his battle against gout. I had not thought it possible for the week to become any more unbearable or frustrating, but this man had proved me quite wrong on that score. Though I had long believed myself to have either out-grown my temper or to have simply mastered it through my occasionally trying life with Holmes, I began to feel it was a struggle to check that temper as the interview wore on. 

Concerned that her mood may be suffering from the conversation as well, I glanced down at Suleviae. She was sitting upright and intent at my feet, and was curiously trying to read the actions of the man's daemon, a sort of black bird I was unfamiliar with. As I looked back at the man again, I noticed the daemon appeared to be behaving in a rather odd manner. While it is true that daemons have temperaments and behaviours as varied as their forms, it seemed to me unusual that, as the old man carried on about a stolen dinner, his daemon was trying to avoid Suleviae's scrutiny. Noticing this herself, she began to attempt getting a better angle to look at him; quietly shifting from one side of me to the other, slowly wending her way to sit upon my shoulder. 

I was questioning the individual as to where, exactly, he had last seen his favourite corkscrew when, much to my shock, Suleviae began laughing as if she had gone mad. Startled, I instinctively reached up to press my hand against her to calm her--I was both embarrassed at her sudden lack of decorum and concerned for her, for both of us. Was the frustration of both the heat and this man truly so powerful? 

Yet, to my great horror, Suleviae would not be subdued. Still giggling, she swiftly darted out from under my hand to crawl back down to the floor, where she came to sit disturbingly close to the old man's feet. I was prepared to grab her when she suddenly exclaimed, "For heaven's sake, Aristaios!" before submitting to a peal of laughter. 

I was still shocked, but when I glanced at the man's daemon to read its reaction, it appeared a touch guilty in the manner it hunched its wings--a manner suddenly very familiar to me. Just as quickly, I saw all the other small clues: the exaggerated stoop of the man's back, the sharp grey eyes, and now, the at-once apologetic and triumphant smile. 

"Holmes?" It was not an elegant reaction, true--but I felt it somewhat better than my initial thought, which would have perhaps involved blows. 

Suleviae was still trying to compose herself at his feet, and before he could speak, she once more called up to his daemon. 

"Really, I've never... Is that boot-polish?" 

Aristaios ruffled his feathers. Even with the long association of Holmes and I, it was rare for the kestrel to speak up, but in this case he clearly felt Sul's words to be a personal insult of some sort. "No, indeed. That would hardly appear as authentic feathers at all. It is a new powdered dye with coal that we have created." 

In the face of his flustered dignity, Suleviae quickly made efforts to check her laughter, but I could feel her mirth strongly through our connection as she asked him whether he knew if it washed off. I myself was forgetting my irritability in light of the amusement she was getting out of this, and we both struggled for a moment with the urge to laugh when Aristaios shifted his perch on Holmes' shoulder awkwardly, and did not answer her question. 

Holmes, more than a touch impatient with all the interruptions, spoke then. "I knew that we could not deceive Suleviae for long with such an obvious guise, but really, Watson. I would have expected you to see through this character in a more timely fashion. Honestly, what sort of man complains about a vanishing corkscrew?" 

I tried to take his provocation as simply being his manner. "Holmes, you had a letter inquiring if you would find a lost corkscrew two years ago, and that is most likely the manner in which you had such an idea. Honestly, had you ever made the effort to file your papers rather than distract me with tales of your youth, you would remember this," I responded heatedly. 

"Even so," he replied in a somewhat haughty tone, "It was an obvious disguise. All you need do is..."

Aggravated, I felt as if I could take no more. "Very well, then if it is so very obvious, what the devil was the meaning of this?" I interrupted. 

Abruptly, Holmes' demeanour changed, as if he only then understood that I was, in actuality, rather frustrated with him. He at least had the dignity to look somewhat contrite as he explained his actions. "What I meant, of course, was that it was perhaps an obvious disguise to you, my Watson. We had just perfected this coal-powder blend, and we felt that if we could deceive Suleviae and yourself--who know us so intimately--that it would be an effective addition to our line of work." 

While it was not a proper apology, it would be the nearest thing I would ever receive from Holmes. 

"Yet you are uncertain of the reversibility of the procedure," Suleviae pointed out. At Aristaios' discomfiture, she could not help but laugh. I felt a bit sorry for the kestrel, although I knew this to be his scheme as much as it was Holmes'. Whatever was in the composition of the powder, it did not appear as if it would merely rub off. 

Though I was still a bit vexed by Holmes' means of entertainment, at this point I was most curious as to how long it would be before Aristaios would have his proper colouration. "You two should put yourselves to rights, lest we get an actual caller," I remarked. 

With some muttered words to the effect that he despaired of being involved in work of any sort until November, Holmes excused himself to change from his costume, Aristaios glancing sharply back at us when Sul once more began to giggle. 

The moment I sat to wait for the two of them, Suleviae happily clamored up beside me, in the best spirits I had seen her all week. I scratched her back idly as I playfully reprimanded her. "Poor Aristaios. He shall probably be sore with you, the way you laughed at his misfortune." 

She stretched out lazily, taking up more of the settee than I had believed possible, much less necessary. "Perhaps," she conceded, "but we do not know that he shall have to undergo anything more strenuous than a good bath. Besides, it is not as if you were not angry with Holmes, and you forgot about that quick enough." 

I could not help but smile at that. "That is hardly a just comparison, Sul. Were I to remember half of what I have been angry with Holmes about, one or both of us would be in a much better place. You can't tell me that you are honestly inclined think Aristaios will be so forgiving." 

Sul sat up once more, and, climbing upon the back of the settee to peer at the door to Holmes' room, remarked that she supposed Aristaios' mood would be largely contingent on how effective Holmes was with a bar of phenolic soap. For a moment, she sat silent and intent, with ears perked; yet still the pair did not emerge. I wondered if, should the powder prove somewhat indelible, Aristaios wouldn't insist upon remaining in there the remainder of the day rather than provide Suleviae with further amusement. After a moment, she tilted her tawny head to consider me.

"I suppose I should be quite thankful I don't have to be Holmes' daemon. You might be altogether too proper and a bit dull, but at least you wouldn't dye me."

Any retort was temporarily delayed, for right then Holmes emerged, with a clean yet tellingly disheveled Aristaios upon his shoulder. The two seemed rather pleased with themselves, and though I did not particularly enjoy being an unknowing participant in his experiments, I was also glad for their success. Aristaios flit deftly down to perch on the back of the settee beside Sul, who reached out with dark-furred paws to begin idly attempting to settle his disarrayed feathers. 

Before she could speak, however, I quickly congratulated Holmes on his achievement. "It shall undoubtedly be of great use in your work, Holmes," said I, smiling at the way he flushed slightly under my praise, "And, should you wish to experiment with the properties of talc, Suleviae has stated she would be quite eager to be an ermine."


End file.
